There is such a thing as bisexual stigma. I had no idea but all the bisexuals in the room swore it was so. They also swore me to confidentiality so I cannot reveal their names. However, I am confident they were all bisexuals.
Some used to identify otherwise. Some used to be pansexuals. That meant they felt attraction for people based not on gender-specific characteristics, like tits and dicks, but for who the other was as an individual.
Others were once queer. This meant that none of the other words ‘fit’, and queer seemed like a catch-all, brooks-no-disagreement term.
Sooner or later, they dropped these other names and drifted back to bisexual. It makes life more simple. They like boys. They like girls. Only, no one believes them. The gays think they are merely keeping an escape route open, afraid to commit to what is still a transgressive lifestyle; the straights think they are only dabbling, will return to the fold soon enough. Bisexual invisibility, they moan. A lack of recognition for their reality.
I liked the bis. There is nothing dogmatic about them. They are too young, too un-persecuted to have invented any sanctimonious cant about rights and identity. I especially liked the bisexual sitting directly across from me. We made a lot of bisexual eye contact during the meeting. I stuck around all the way to the end, hoping we could share a bisexual moment; but she was surrounded by other bis and I would have had to go all polyamorous on their asses. I’m not ready to take that step.